Most of my dreams strike me as forgetable. Even the ones I remember strike me as variations on a theme and are interesting only insofar as they reiterate what has been iterated thousands of times before and will be iterated thousands of times again.
Yep. I’m within acceptable boundaries. (One takes ones small pleasures where one can.)
From time to time, however, I am lucky enough to have a dream while I am sick. No dream like a fever dream, I always say.
The dreams I have in those categories are much like this one (with or without the having to pee). The most recent fever dream I recall having involved me being a temporary road manager for Hannah Montana of all people. What was so frustrating was the knowledge that the thousands of problems plaguing the tour were all fixable problems. Miley was showing up when people expected Hannah (and vice-versa), costume changes were taking forever, musicians were making mistakes… in real life, I had fallen asleep with a 102 fever and some Tylenol PM. In the dream, I was the Road Manager sent in to fix everything. I worked with costuming, I worked with the producers, I worked with the sound guys, I worked with the lighting guys, I worked with the folks whose job it was to empty the trash. These problems were COSTING US MONEY. Everyone understood what was expected of them. Everyone understood what order we would be singing what songs. Everyone understood their marks and understood when they were expected to stand on them. Everyone understood their place in this universe.
And I felt my fever break. And I fell into the sleep of a person whose fever had broken.
Anyway, for Christmas, Maribou gave me the story of Joe the Barbarian.
Joe is a young diabetic kid who is *THIS* close to having the hypo of all hypos. He has left the front door open. He has left the sink running, and his pet rat has gotten loose. The closest sucrose is two floors away… and King Death is invading The Kingdom.
This is the story of how Joe the Barbarian works with such folks as Jack the Rat and Smoot the Giant to get from all the way from here to *THERE*.
Anyway, this story will stress you out, make you laugh, and make you remember your fever dreams.
So that’s my recommendation for this week.
Mrfl.
My dream last night was me trying to get control (by way of The People In Charge) of an operation that I had previously sabotaged, while retaining the previous CO of the operation as my underling (as I didn’t know anything about running the joint). I think my argument was that I had acted morally and ethically, and I would continue to do so… Think they might have bought it too.
This is the kind of dream I can have at times even when not sick at all.
A more recent one involved being arrested for public indecency for having sex with Salma Hayek in public. We challenged the arrest on free expression grounds (claimed it was performance art), and eventually argued before the Supreme Court.
Any sort of sex with Salma Hayek ought to be indecent, or you’re not doing it right.
Dangm dude. That sounded like a nightmare more than just a dream. Cannot remember my last dream, but it had something to do with neededing 5’s in Cribbage…
Slow Wave is a webcomic whose concept is “people describe their dreams and this guy draws them”.
Back on Hallowe’en I deleted everything at my website except for tiny things to maintain the main page. At that point I wasn’t remembering my dreams and it became a bit of a chore trying to juggle real life, work, cat boxes, my wife, a paranormal blog and my online journal for the last dodecade.
Life’s become a bit quieter, I have a nice rhythm, I don’t get as stressed out and I credit my August hospital stay. Of late I’ve been remembering my dreams and they’ve had me living a mundane, albeit dreamlike, life while unconscious. Reminiscent of my own Willoughby that I called Rainy Mountain except without the mountains and significantly less rain. The dreams are less vivid but I’m always left with the feeling that something happened which was important as waking life.
Reckon this would’ve been better as a personal email to you but I thrive on attention and figure I might as well venture here.
It’s cool, dude. Priority reshuffling seems such a huge thing beforehand… and such a small thing in retrospect.